Twelve Days of Christmas
by Violet Vampire
Summary: Bella, a world renowned singer, is returning to Oz with her daughter after being away for eight years. But she hasn't contacted Edward in that time nor has she told him who the father of her child. What will happen under the mistletoe this festive season?
1. Prologue: I'll be Home for Christmas

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**** Hello, to all the awesome people reading this story of mine. Okay, a day late, but posted none the less. Here is my new story. I was grateful to be bestowed with this gift of a story during maths class earlier in the week. As I am not taking maths as a subject next (haha to all who are) I have sent my time typing up this story on the computer. I wanted to right a Twilight fanfiction during an Australia Christmas, a beautiful and joyful time of year. If you have any suggestions of any form, dear reader, do not hesitate to drop a review! This story will contain fourteen chapters including prologue and epilogue, the grand finale being on Christmas Day. This story is rate T for the moment but may change to a rating of M due to my plans for future chapters and how explicit my imagination will cause me to write. Woohoo, hunt! If there are any questions at the end of this, please ask!**

**DISCLAIMER: I was put on the naughty list because I stole the rites to Twilight from Stephenie Meyer, so I gave them back so I ca still get presents from Santa! So, Ms Meyer owns them again…remind me why I gave them back?**

**FRIEND QUOTE OF THE DAY: **_**"Hey! It's nine days between Easter and Christmas!"**_** –Me**

_**This chapter is dedicated to **_**Wishta**_**. See you at Christmas!**_

**PROLOGUE:**_**I'll be Home for Christmas…**_

**12****th**** December 2009**

It had been eight years since I had been home. Eight long years since I had seen my friends and almost as long for my parents. I had kept in contact with everyone. Well, everyone but one. And he was present in my thoughts every day.

"Momma, that's our luggage." I reached down to pick up our suitcases, trying to juggle all three of them while smiling down at my six year old daughter hanging onto my leg. Renesmee Carlie Swan was my world and I tried to make sure she had every comfort and joy any six year old girl would want. All except for a father. But that was my fault. I was too scared to tell him of his daughter. She had his unusual bronze curls and his straight nose, but she had my chocolate brown eyes and creamy complextion. I was grateful that she had his gracefulness, though she did have my clumsiness when she became overly-excited. She always spoke articulately rather than in baby babble except for a few words that she stumbled over or couldn't pronounced. Renesmee possessed our love of reading and music, though she was inclined towards the flute rather than the piano or her voice, but she could do both as well. She named after my mother, Renee, and his mother, Esme. Her middle name was derived from her two grandfathers, Charlie and Carlisle. I wanted her to have her grandparents and her aunts and uncles, but most of all, I wanted her to have her father.

Edward Cullen.

If Renesmee was my world, then Edward was my universe, the sun my sad little planet orbited around dutifully, constantly. I had made no contact with him at all these past few years. I had managed to keep communication with Renee and her husband Phil, my step-sister Rosalie, my cousin Emmet, and my best friend and Edward's sister, Alice. But I had been too scared to seek out Edward. I was worried about what he would say if he found out that Renesmee was his daughter. As far as Edward and the rest of the world was concerned Renesmee was Mike's daughter, and loathsome as the idea of that sleazy, arrogant, scum-bag _actor_ being the father of my child, even in pretend, it was easier to let the media make up a story rather than come up with my own.

But I wanted Renesmee to know her father. Herself and Jacob were the only ones who knew that Mike wasn't Renesmee's father, though she had no idea who was. And I missed Edward so _much_. He was my first serious boyfriend and we were together nearly our entire high school career. His sister Alice was in my class in year seven and we were instant best friends. Edward was in the grade above us, but we didn't get together until near the end of the year. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple and everyone assumed we would get married after high school. Everyone except for ourselves.

The April after graduation, Alice married her boyfriend and Edward's best mate Jasper. It was Easter Sunday and Edward was the Best Man while I was the Maid of Honour. The bride and groom had left and we had had_ way_ too much to drink…well, you get the picture. That was a reason why I chose America; the drinking age was twenty-one rather than eighteen.

So I disappeared to Hollywood to pursue my dream and protect my unborn child from the reality of my over –active imagination. There I caught the eye of Mike Newton, the young and up-coming actor that was on everyone's lips. We were together during the birth of Renesmee, whom the tabloids immediately assumed was his due to the fact she had my eyes and, according to them, Mike's mother Victoria's red hair. A year after the release of my first album Mike proposed. I told him I would think about it, knowing I could never say yes. I went to his apartment later that day only to find that his assistant's, Jessica's, legs had spread themselves for him. Well, that was the end of that, thank goodness.

I moved to New York after that, feeling the need for a change of scenery. There I released my second album and met my best guy friend, Jacob Black. He was more like the brother I never had and a doting uncle like figure to Renesmee. He helped look after Renesmee when I had interviews or recording sessions and I helped come up with jingles and design adds for his motor repair business. Renee and Phil came to visit me that year in New York and see their granddaughter for the first time. Renee had been really concerned when I had told her I was keeping the baby, worried that I would make the same mistakes that she had. But she was proud that I had managed to stay out of serious trouble (although having a child early and out of wedlock was apparently minor) and creating a successful career for myself. She also adored Renesmee, as did everyone.

In two thousand and six I participated in a reality television series entitled "Working Mum" which basically followed the lives of various single and successful women who had children. I was happy to show that I didn't need _Mike_, who everyone stilled believed to be the father (I had reassured Renee that Mike was in fact _not_ the father of my child, though I would not tell her who was) and Renesmee and I were perfectly fine on our own. Jacob was seen a couple of times with us, and that caused the tabloids to spread rumours that we were dating. We laughed about it, finding it hilarious that the media couldn't seem to handle the concept that celebrities were able to be friends with the opposite sex just like anyone else.

At the beginning of the next year my fame had grown to an international level. I hired an agent and publicist, Angela, and released yet another album. Angela sprinkled a few suggestions to the media of who my Baby Daddy could be, ranging from Matt Brittan to Orlando Bloom. She also assured the media that Mike Newton was _not _the father of my child, so his one last claim to fame was gone, and he went spiraling down. I was also trying to talk myself into going home, knowing the Edward had every right to know the truth. I nearly told Alice and Emmet a couple of times in e-mails, but I managed to stop myself. I wanted Edward to hear about Renesmee from me, not an accidental, second-hand slip. And still I couldn't forget the man I loved.

I gave my first live performance in the summer of the next year in Times Square, broadcasted live across the world thanks to the internet. Renesmee hadn't wanted to stay home with Jake, so they both came and watched from the wings. However, half-way through the show Renesmee ran onto the stage and grabbed onto my dress. I picked her up and didn't let go of her for the rest of the show. The tabloids ate that up, loving every picture they flashed. That Christmas, homesick and missing the hot, dry weather that represented December to me, I wrote a Christmas song inspired by the Christmases of my childhood and teen years. I didn't sing glistening snow and icily decorated trees or the frost that hung in the air from our breath and the warmth of eggnog. Rather, I talked dry earth, clear, blue oceans under the harsh, yellow-white sun, and cold Champaign, fizzing with golden bubbles.

After the release of that song, I was offered an opportunity to golden to refuse; to sing the song at Carols in the Domain. It seemed as though the fates had decided there had been enough dawdling and it was time for me to come home. It would offer me the chance not only to share my passion of music and hot Christmases with my home country, but also for Renesmee to meet her family. If I had the guts to tell them. And if I had the guts to tell him.

Jacob ended up being the one to force me to go. Angela had tried the publicity track with me: _Internationally Famous Singer Returning Home; Aussie Star to Sing Homeland Carol; Singing Sensation to Sing at the Domain; An Australian Christmas: Isabella Spends Time with Family_. So Jake took a different rout. He knew how much I missed everyone, how much I wanted to be with my family, and how much I missed Edward. After all, missing someone is just another way of loving them.

So that was how I ended up here handing over my bags to the driver in the middle of the busy Sydney International Airport. Scooping Renesmee up into my arms, we made our way through the crowded airport underneath all the wreaths decorated with baubles and fairylights that drapped from the ceiling. Jus as I was thinking it was a good thing we had dressed appropriately for the hot weather and left our woolen coats at home, I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my three quarter jeans. Pulling it out, I flipped it open and read the text.

_**From **__**Angela:**__ just warned. Lots of vultures circling outside. Smile, give them a few answers, and don't give anything away._

I winced, cursing inside my head. I was kind of hoping for a peaceful arrival, but that was never gonna happen when you are an internationally famous celebrity with a daughter out of marriage who hasn't been home for six years. Straightening my back slightly and running my hand through my hair to neaten it, I pulled Renesmee closer as I neared the doors. Sensing that everything was about to get chaotic, Renesmee buried her face in my neck.

I stepped out of the automatic doors with Christmas trees on either side, only to be met with a dozen camera flashes and twice as many microphones shoved into my face. I even saw a steady cam rolling. I knew there was no point putting on the sunglasses on top of my head, and was grateful that I had insisted none of my family or friends meet me at the airport. Questions were being shouted at from every directions ranging from the basic, unoriginal kind to the more extravagant, nosy variety.

"I'll answer five questions," I called over the din. Angela had told me when I first hired it was easier to pick a small number of questions and answer them rather than try and answer all of them or try to push through the crowd and ignore them. It had always worked, so there seemed no reason to change the preordained plan.

"Miss Swan, are you glad to be home once again," asked an unoriginal reporter.

"I have only just landed and have not gone home yet, so I'm afraid I can't honestly answer that question." A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd as the reporters laughed at their fellow's embarrassment.

"What are your plans while you are in Australia, Miss Swan?" Boring.

"I plan on spending time with friends and family, singing at the Domain, and soaking the Australian Christmas air I have missed."

"What do you want for Christmas?" Okay…weird.

"Well, I _would_ like some peace and quiet from you folk, but not everyone gets what they want." More laughter, louder this time, met my words.

"Miss Swan, what have you missed most about being home?"

"Well, I could tell you, but then I would never get home and then I wouldn't be able to answer the first question." I began moving through crowd, pointedly moving towards the dark blue care with the door open. I knew once I was inside that care with the door closed where the driver was at the wheel, I would be safe.

"Miss Swan, how does Mike feel about you being in Australia? How does the father of your child feel about you not having a White Christmas?"

I froze, one leg in the car, the other braced on the side walk. I quickly placed Renesmee into the child safety seat and buckled her in before turning to face the crowd of reporters with my sunglasses down.

"First of all, that's two questions, meaning I have been asked six questions in total when I only promised five answers. However I will answer both questions. As you are well a where, Mike Newton is _not_ the father of my child and everything magazine and website has their own theories. So I don't care how Mike feels about me being home for the holiday season. And I do not know how the father of my child feels as I have not talked to him about it yet. Thank you."

I quickly shut the door behind me and told the driver to drive as the reporters pressed against the tinted windows, shouting incoherent sentences through the dark glass. I turned to Renesmee as we pulled onto the road.

"Are you okay, sweetie? Not too scary?" I asked my daughter. I hated it when she was dragged into these situations with me. Sometimes I wished that my dream hadn't been fulfilled so that Renesmee could have had a normal childhood. But then I would have had to work more than I would have seen her. So I would change this choice of mine. But I would have found some way to make it easier on her.

"I'm good, Mummy," she made a circle with her index and her thumb just like she had seen Jake do when he was indicating that everything was okay. Then she reached up and pulled off my sunglasses and put them over her own eyes. "But if you get sunlassies then I get sunlassies too!"

Smiling gently at her, I claimed my 'sunlassies' back. "Then neither of us will wear sunglasses. That way the other won't feel left out. Deal?"

"Deal," Renesmee said, grinning up at me and nodding her head.

Soon we reached the house I had bought after I had finished high school with the money that Charlie (my dad) had left me in his will. We had both always wanted to live down at Manly, near the ocean that we both loved so we could lay in the surf and fish everyday. I remember him being relieved that I still ate fish even after I turned vegetarian, calling myself a pescatarian. So when I wanted to by a place of my own I bought a thin house in Manly. I say thin because it is narrow, but it has three stories. The walls were painted pale yellow and the furniture, though homey and vaguely miss-matched, was done so in style since Alice was the one that had helped me to decorate it. I had a few neighbours attached to the building I had lived in, as well as privet access to a little beach. The deck was open and last time I was here a colony of fairy penguins nested underneath.

Renesmee sat on my hip as I opened the door and directed the driver to drop the bags inside. I gave him a tip and he went off in search of his own car, leaving me with the keys so I could drive myself around. Stepping down the one step down into the living room from the first room which was the kitchen, I noticed that all the curtains were open and a fresh vase of flowers sat in the center of the dining table. I went over and let Renesmee sniff the floral arrangement. I could already smell the fragrant perfume; frangipanis and gardenias. Interesting choice and my best friend's favourite flowers. Alice had been here to tidy the place up and welcome me home. I smiled warmly at the flowers as though they _were_ my best friend rather than a pleasant gesture from her.

I carried our luggage up to the two rooms upstairs after placing Renesmee on the floor and telling her to be careful as she explored. I noticed the bed in my room had fresh sheets and more frangipanis beside the bed as I place my two suitcases on the floor. When I opened the wardrobe I was shocked to see that it was basically full, despite the fact I distinctly remembered packing all my clothes eight years ago. It seemed Alice had taken liberty to do one of her favourite pastimes of Bella Barbie, but seeing as the unwilling guinea pig had not been present it seemed she had gone shopping for Bella Barbie instead.

Sighing and shaking my head, I walked across the small hallway to the room that I decided would be Renesmee's. Not that there was much choice, given the fact that it was the only other bedroom in the house. When I opened the door and saw that the original bed had been replaced with a smaller version with a butterfly dona, I wasn't even surprised. It seemed Alice had done everything I wasn't able to do while I was in America. As I placed Renesmee's small case on the ground, I couldn't decide whether or not I was grateful I had given Alice a spare key to my house all those years ago.

As I walked down the stairs, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket again. But this vibration was persistent and I knew that it was a call, not a text. As I flipped the phone open I noticed that the clock read 4:13 p.m. Even though my body was telling me that it was really just after two yesterday morning, I didn't feel tired and I knew Renesmee didn't feel tired either. We had both slept well on the plane. It also felt as though my natural clock ha been set right, as if it had been tipped on its head the last few years.

"Hello, Isabella Swan speaking. How may I help you?" The words were a deeply ingrained reflex from the day when Charlie was alive and Renee was still attempting to act like a mother. And I had never broken out of the habit. Plus it never did to be rude to unknown numbers just incase it was a media outlet that had gotten a hold of my number. Plus I hadn't checked the caller ID as fixated as I was by the time.

"Baby! Have you landed yet? Are you home? Why haven't you called?" I smiled as I heard the voice of my mother come through the phone. Still the same since last time she called me, mmm, just before the plane took off?

"Mum, mum! Breathe! Yes, I've landed and yes, I have just unlocked the front door, and I have only not called because I've been dumping luggage in the bedrooms. Now, is there a particular reason you've called? You're granddaughter is in the same condition since the last time you called and my balance has improved so I am scratched free."

"Bella baby, I'm not allowed to call my own daughter? And since when did you get so cheeky?"

"Since I learned it from my mother's knee."

"Ouch. You learnt that from your sister, not me."

"You're right. I learnt other things from _your_ knee."

"Okay, I'm going to ignore that comment, my dear baby daughter. Instead I'm going to ask you when you plan on coming over. Oh, everyone is so excited to see you again, baby! You know, Phil and I are the only ones who have seen you in the last eight years? Eight years! And no one else had met Renesmee! They're all here now, all the Cullens, and none of them can wait to see the two of you! I've got dinner ready and everything! Well, Esme made dinner and Rosalie made the most delicious dessert! She's doing really well in those pastry chef courses. But everyone wants to see you and meet Renesmee, and they have _so_ many questions to ask! Don't worry; it won't be anything like those reporters outside the airport. Totally unoriginal. Did you know that it's already on the internet? The miracles of modern day technology! Those fans of yours are so, so, so _loud _on the fansites! You'd think they actually knew if you saw how passionate they can get on those blogs! It's just so amazing-" But I never got to hear what was so amazing as I cut her off.

"Mum! What did I say about reading fansites? Can you please not read them? They're so embarrassing."

"Oh, honey, you should be proud that so many people appreciate your voice! There are many people out there who would do anything to have your fame and success!"

"Yeah, it just so happens, I'm not one of them. All I wanted was to sing and make a name for myself in the music industry, not become a world wide singing phenomenon."

"Ah, so you admit you're a phenomenon."

"Mum!"

"Okay, sorry baby, I'm just so glad you're home!"

"Me too mum, but you haven't seen me yet."

"Does that mean you're coming now?"

"Isn't that why you called?"

"Yes, but I thought you were already in the car…"

"I'll be there soon."

"Do you remember the way?"

"I lived in Sydney for nineteen years mum. I know how to get there."

"Okay, see you soon baby. Love you."

"Love you too."

I snapped the phone shut and glanced around the lower floor to see Renesmee outside on the deck. I walked out the doors and went to stand beside her. She was standing on the bench that ran around the low brick wall and was looking down at the melted sapphire waves of the water. I brushed her curls back with my hands as the wind played its favourite game of knots.

"How do you feel about going to see Grandma and Grandpa?" I asked her. She turned her happy face towards me; her chocolate eyes were shimmering with an excitement that I knew mirrored my own exactly. "I have to warn you, there will be other people there who will be curious about you. But they really want to meet you. And you can meet your aunt and uncle. Won't that be exciting!"

"I can meet Uncie Emmeth and Auntie Rosie?" A sweet grin spread across Renesmee's creamy cheeks, looking like a mini Snow White who had just woken up.

"Only if you go upstairs now so we can choose what you can wear."

I followed her as she stumbled her way upstairs, clapping her hands the whole way. Even if my coordination skills had improved marginally, Renesmee seemed to have inherited both my clumsiness and Edward's gracefulness; the more excited she was, the more like me she was. I walked into her room to see that she had thrown up the cupboard doors and had begun riffling through the clothes that could reach. I remembered that I had never unpacked her clothes and shook my head. Alice, Alice, Alice. I picked up Renesmee's flute case from where she had knocked it off the top of her suitcase on the floor. I may have a lot of money but I did not fancy the idea of constantly buying new flutes. I looked over at Renesmee to see her holding up a white sundress with purple flowers and green leaves dotted all over it. She looked up at me pleadingly and I thought that if Alice was there then it was appropriate that Renesmee should where something Alice had bought. I slipped her into the dress and helped her to pull on the pair of purple sandals that I assumed went with the dress. She jumped up once I had finished brushing her hair and pulled me to my room. I groaned for her benefit, knowing full well what she was going to do. Giggling, Renesmee opened the doors to my closet and began tugging at the hems of various dresses and skirts. Gathering the idea that I was supposed to hold each item up in front of me, I obliged and waited for Renesmee's approval each time before I would hang it back up in the cupboard. Finally she settled on a pale yellow, wrap around dress and strappy red heels. As Alice would have said, it clashed wonderfully. Renesmee made sit down on the floor while she scrambled into the bed so she could brush my hair.

"I'm done, momma." She proclaimed, jumping off the bed and lead me towards the mirror. "We're the prettiest princesses in all of Austaya!" I picked her up and kissed her on the cheek, hugging her close.

"Yes," I whispered in her ear. "Yes, we are."

I turned away from the mirror and carried her down the stairs. I grabbed my black handbag on the way and locked the door behind me. I buckled Renesmee up in the child seat before slipping into the driver's seat. I pulled out of the carpark and we were on our way.

The car ride wasn't as long as I remembered and I found the way easily. I recognised various places as we drove by and I pointed them out to my daughter, and then told her off for bouncing in her seat. We laughed at the giant blown up Santas and igloos and ooed and ahed over the bright lit fairylight spectacles covering people's houses; it was only just about to go five o'clock and people were already turning their light displays on, which was a little bit odd considering it's daylight savings. At one point when I stopped at a red light I noticed the title on an evening newspaper. _There's No Place like Home: Isabella Swan Returns to Oz for Christmas._ I smiled and continued on our way when the light turned green.

When I pulled into the driveway of my parents' house, I saw the curtains in the bay window twitch into place as I turned off the ignition. I turned around to face Renesmee.

"Ready?"

"When you am, mummy," Renesmee said, an adorable smile lighting her face. Chuckling, I opened my door and shut it before opening Renesmee's and unbuckling her. As she climbed out I grabbed my bag and locked the car. Picking up Renesmee, I walked up the four stairs and took the necessary seven steps towards the familiar door. I knocked on the door and waited. Renesmee giggled when I playfully scowled at the door for not opening after I had knocked a third time. I tried the doorknob and when I found that it was unlocked I pushed it open. Walking inside I called out, hoping for a response.

"Mum! We're here! It's a good thing you don't live in New York cause you'd never get away with the door being left open like that for anyone to enter. That's one thing I've missed about Australia; Gun Laws! Now mum, where are you? If you're going to try and pretend you've forgotten just so I'll stay longer while you get everything ready, you'll have forgotten that you granddaughter is only six years old and still needs to go to bed early. Mum? Mum! Phil! Anyone?"

By this point in time I had made my day the hall having dumped my bag and car keys on the entrance table. I gently pushed the door to the main living area open and had just stepped inside with Renesmee securely on my hip (who had buried her face in my neck again in sudden shyness) when the lights were flipped on.

"WELCOME HOME, BELLA!"

I blinked in the sudden light and gazed around the room, filled with the people I had loved by missing them for the last eight years. Renee and Phil were the closest, having been the ones to have flipped the switch to turned the lights on. Alice was rushing towards like the agile pixie she was, Jasper walking close behind her, holding a little baby on his arms. Esme and Carlisle were standing near a long table heavy with food, looking as charming as ever. Rosalie was moving quickly towards with a grin on her beautiful, Emmet's hand tightly entwined with hers (that's a new development). And at the back of the room was the face I longed to see the most. A face I had missed for eight years, a face I had seen for eight years whenever I shut my eye lids.

Even as I was enveloped in enthusiastic hugs, surrounded by warm, excited faces, and heard the coos of everyone as they saw Renesmee. I only stared into the emerald eyes I had missed for so long. In them I saw the love that was still in my heart, but I also saw a cautious, hard emotion sitting just in front of the warmth that I did not deserve for running away eight years ago, but I still selfishly desired. In that moment, despite knowing it all along, it felt even stronger in that moment surrounded by loved ones, looking into the eyes of my one love. The man I hadn't stopped loving since that day Alice introduced me to him in high school.

Edward Cullen.

* * *

**So what ****did you all think? Like it, love it, hate it? Well written, needs to improve? Want more of a character, or less of? Something you want to see happen, or really don't want to see happen? Tell me! Doesn't that review button look tantalizing? PRESS IT!**

_**Just to clear of few things up…**_

**There will be no Bella, Jacob, and Edward love triangle, or a love triangle of any sort between any of the characters. Renesmee and Jacob will not get together in this story. Jacob is like an uncle to her and she is like a niece to him. It was cute in 'Breaking Dawn' when he was a werewolf and she was a hybrid who was rapidly aging, but when she is six and he his twenty-two years older than her, that's not even slightly crazy-it's just plan wrong! I can't think of anything else, so if I have forgotten anything, please tell me!**

_**Okay**__**…question time!**_

**What is a nickname I can give Renesmee? I love the name Renesmee, but I don't want to use it all the time as she is a six year old girl and I have deemed it inappropriate. I'm not a fan of Nessie (reminds me of a dog or the Loch Ness Monster. lol) and I don't want to use Renee or Esme as they are both in the story. Suggestion!**

**How angry is Edward with Bella? Is he angry at all? This will decide how quickly their relationship progresses in the story.**

**Rosalie and Emmet? Remember: Emmet is Bella's cousin and Rosalie is Bella's step-sister. I don't think it's wrong or incestuous, but some of you might…**

**Anything else? Tell me! I won't be posting the second chapter (which is already written, just waiting for your input) until I have five reviews! If I get more, everyone gets virtual cookies! HIT THAT REVIEW BUTTON!!!!**

_**You know you love me,**_

_**Violet**_


	2. Chapter 1: I'm Dreaming of a White Xmas

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ****Hey all! I have decided to go with a combination for a nickname. **_**ShiningStarr**_** recommended 'Ren' and **_**Wishta **_**recommended 'Rini' and I have concluded with 'Reni'. Although I think Alice may use **_**.xlol's**_** suggestion of 'May' just cause she's, you know, **_**Alice**_**. Can you guys please spread the word of this story and review, not just alert? Three reviews makes me feel sad…**

**DISCLAIMER: The other day I was sitting on top of the Opera House singing **_**I Remember**_** by Kate Cabrano in perfect tune while snow fell from the sky and froze the water of the Harbour. People then began to ice skate on the glistening, white-blue surface while worshipping me for writing the **_**Twilight Saga**_**. Then I woke up and cried because none of it could come true. Stephenie Meyer owns **_**Twilight **_**and any traits these characters possess that are similar to hers.**

**FRIEND QUOTE OF THE DAY: **_**"Can we do something on these days?" "No." "Why not?" "Ah, it's Christmas Eve and Day, and you're out of the country." **_**–Kayla and Me.**

**And I forgot to say in the previous chapter that although I will be dedicating each chapter to someone different, this entire story is dedicated to my three best friends; Chandy, Kayla, and Elissa. Their names will be sprinkled through the story, although it won't be so subtle now that you know.**

_**This chapter is dedicated to **_**ShiningStarr**_** for being my first reviewer and writing a very enjoyable and helpful reviewer.**_

**CHAPTER ONE:**_**I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas**_

**13****TH**** December 2009**

"So Bella; how is New York?"

I turned too looked at Alice sitting next to me. Everyone, every Cullen, Swan, Hale, and Whitlock was sitting at the long table enjoying the last of Rosalie's Pavlova. She'd decorated the top of the ballerina meringue with raspberries and shaved chocolate, remembering that to be my favourite sweet combination. I slowly chewed on a dark red berry as Alice looked at me expectantly for an answer.

"New York's great, a real change of scenery from L.A. You'd love it; there's so many little designers breaking out in tiny rental shops on the sidewalk." I smiled when I saw Alice's hazel eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. She was still the same, which I guess shouldn't have surprised as her e-mails had been as bubbly as ever. Clearly she still enjoyed hunting for unique pieces created by little known designers or ones that go by foreign names that no one had even heard of, let alone pronounce.

"Sure, but what's it _like _living in a big city?"

"You live in the city Alice; it's very similar. Only bigger…and a prominent lack of sleep and focus. The only real difference is the time zone and the wacked out reversal of the seasons." Alice chuckled and held little Tyler closer to her chest wear he was eating. She was still fairly covered so no one was seemed uncomfortable.

"You must be exhausted from traveling across time zones."

I turned my head so I could face Esme sitting down the far end of the table. How she had heard our conversation I had no idea. She was still the same as ever, though her caramel curls had been cropped into a very ladylike bob that suited her round face. Her warm, green eyes, much like her son's, lit up with the ever present smile on her cupid's bow lips.

"No, we slept on the plane. Besides, I never completely adjusted to the American time zone; I was always more awake during the Australian day."

"But won't you miss a White Christmas?" I glanced at Rosalie sitting across from me and tilted my head to the side.

"Didn't I answer that question earlier today?" Renee told me upon my arrival that they had all watched the questions being thrown at me outside the airport when it was broadcasted online about ten minutes after I had driven away. This announcement had obviously caused a familiar blushed to rise in my cheeks, but I still laughed at the ridiculousness of it with everyone else.

"No. You were asked about how Mike Newton felt about you being in Australia during this jolly season. And besides, this is family not the paparazzi. You can't keep secrets from us," Rosalie winked one pale blue eye at me and brushed her golden hair away from her face.

"Screw Mike," I muttered under my breath. A sharp intake of breath was taken in to my left, which caused a sigh to escape my lips. It seemed a little pair of eyes had caught my expletive. Reaching into the bag that was now at my feet, I pulled a dollar coin out of my wallet and held up for Renesmee to see. "Sorry sweetie, mummy shouldn't have said that. Do you want to hold onto this and put it in the jar when we get home?" She just grinned up at me and nodded, meringue and cream smothered around her mouth. "

"Sugar honey ice-tea," I muttered as I reached for a napkin and wiped the gooey mess from around her mouth. She giggled and protested, but let me get the dessert off her face.

"So how old's Reni then?" I winced at Emmet's nickname for Renesmee, but she clapped her hands; she never been able to pronounce her full name, always calling herself 'Reni' or 'May'. I had stead fast called her 'Renesmee', 'Sweetie', or 'Honey'. Occasionally I relented and called her 'May'. But 'Reni'? Really? I frowned at Emmet before I spoke.

"She's seven on the twenty-first. Come one Emmet, you're an accountant! I've been away for eight years-the maths is simple!"

"Yeah, but you must have been pretty quick when you arrived in Hollywood."

I flinched at how crass it sounded. Rosalie smacked him over the back of the head and Renee chastised my cousin, who was still naïve about what he had just said. Emmet wasn't slow or lacking in intelligence, he was just totally oblivious to the awkwardness he tended to create in conversation.

"As I said before; scr-" I saw Renesmee looking at me hopefully, "forget Mike." Renesmee tapped the coin on the table, waiting for me (or someone else) to slip up.

"So how about Jacob Black then, huh Bella? He's a real looker." Both Emmet and I raised our eyebrows at Rosalie. "What?! He seems like a nice guy!"

"Which he's. A nice _friend_," I emphasized the word, hoping to get it through the romantic shroud that seemed to be covering a few people's brains at the table. "Besides, I don't think you would really appreciate meeting him; he's knows _way_ too many blonde jokes."

"Still, couldn't hurt right?"

I stared blankly at Rosalie for another second before turning to Renee. I heard Rosalie huff quietly behind me. I blatantly attempted to change the subject.

"So, why isn't the Christmas Tree up yet, Mum? You've got all the other Chrissy decorations in place," I asked, eyeing the Christmas mugs and card on the cabinet behind her.

"Actually, we were waiting for you to get here to do it this year. We wanted you and Renesmee to help decorate it."

"Oh," was all I could manage. I was touched. "When do you want us?"

"Tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sure." I smiled warmly at the mother I missed.

"Which reminds me; you have no Christmas decorations in you house…" Alice left off suggestively, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Everyone around the table laughed as they recognised the expression on Alice's face.

"Let the girl breath Alice," Jasper murmured to his wife. "She hasn't even been home a day yet and already you are planning on torturing her."

"Oh, don't worry about that Jasper; she's already filled up both mine and Renesmee's wardrobes," I assured him. He gave me a look that clearly read _you really think that's going to stop her?_ I just shrugged.

"Sure Alice, but I'm bringing Renesmee and Rose has to endure it with me." Rosalie winked at me again, knowing full well that this kind of shopping wasn't going to be a pain. She was just as nutty about Christmas as I am, only she went for the more classic, fairytale Winter Wonderland scheme, where as I preferred and Aussie style Christmas.

"Actually Bella, Renee and I were wondering whether we could steal Renesmee for tomorrow? Maybe we could take her to the Aquarium and the Wild Life Park…" Phil was being cautious. Although I now loved him like a second father, I was not always open to the idea of him becoming my step-father. It was more the idea of any man being a part of the cozy life my mother and I had created, but eventually I warmed up to the idea, thanks to a large part of Rosalie becoming my step-sister. I had been the Maid-of-Honour twice.

"That's okay with me and Renesmee sure seems excited," I allowed after a glance at Renesmee's excited face.

"Been in hospital recently Bella?" Another ripple of laughter ran around the table at Carlisle's query. I smiled with the rest other them, thinking briefly back to the days when I could barely walk straight. Okay, slight exaggeration.

"No," I said proudly, "I haven't been to the emergency room for two years now."

"And what was that for?" Emmet sat up straighter, eager for any story that involved endangering clumsy me.

I blushed at the memory. "That information I shall not disclose," I claimed, pronouncing every word the way I would to a nosy reporter. I say his brown eyes zero in on Renesmee (or as he would have said, _'Reni'_) but before he could open his mouth I cut across him. "She doesn't know the story Emmet, so don't even try to get it out of her." He looked from me to her and back again.

"You'd tell me if you knew, wouldn't you Reni?" She just grinned up at her 'new' uncle.

The beginning strain of _White Christmas_ came onto the stereo playing Christmas songs in the background. As conversation was directed away from me I thought back to last Christmas. We had just finished decorating the 'real' fir tree (something I _never_ planned on doing again) and changing our answering machine to Renesmee and me wishing everyone a Merry Christmas after requesting for them to leave a message after. Renesmee wanted to go and meet 'Uncle Jake' in Central Park so they could go sledding, so I rugged her up in warm clothes and walked out of the building. She stopped at a sign on the side of a building that read of saving the dugongs. When she asked me what a dugong was I said they were the closest things people had been able to find to mermaids. Mermaids were her favourite fairytale creature; she was able to quote the entire _Little Mermaid_ without pause. Given she did quote it incorrectly, but it didn't stop it from being cute. I promised her that if we ever went to Australia then I would take her to go see the dugongs. Then we trudged down the grey path toward the pure white snow the blanketed Central Park.

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas…just like the ones in New York…and in Snow Globes…and all I can do is dream about them because I'm in Australia. A wave of euphoria rushed through me at the thought of a snowless Christmas.

"What is a White Christmas in New York like, Bella?" I snapped my head up when he spoke and stared directly into his eyes. He had not spoken with warmth or affection, rather in a hard, challenging sort of tone. As though he was daring me to say that America was better than Australia and that I wished I had never come. I don't know how I read this from one look, one sentence, but I supposed eight years hadn't changed my ability of understanding him.

I noticed that everyone around the table had ceased conversation and had their eyes on me. Jasper was the only one that had experienced a White Christmas, being from the States and all. However, everyone else was always home, in Australia, for Christmas. They knew their places lay with their family, where as I was still trying to find my place.

"It's just like a fairytale, the perfect picture of a fantasyland. The atmosphere is so carefree and happy, filled with forgiveness and joy. Snow glitters on the ground in Central Park, sparkling due to the filtered light falling softly from the pale grey sky." I smiled gently, remember the clichéd images I had seen over the last few years. Icicles glisten crystal-clear from skeletal trees as carolers sing _Silent Night_ to passer-byers. Children stumble in their skates as teenagers' whiz past them in a whir of freedom. Others huddle of mugs of hot chocolate on tables that spill onto the sidewalk from cozy cafes, while watching people walk down the path as they kicked the minimal snow that had not melted upon landing. And at night, the lights from the windows of people's apartments defy the brightness of street lamps to be seen on all their Christmas cheer. The giant Christmas Tree seems to hold a million different fairies, each golden bauble glimmering with the promises of wishes coming true. Then Christmas morning dawns, silver and clear, with hope and magic in the air. It's just as I thought it would be like before I experienced one; unreal, like dream, a fairytale that has been borrowed and in which we can only live in temporarily. But while it lasts…the white and silver everywhere…Santas on every corner…cinnamon and crisp snow on the air...it's enchanting."

Everyone was spellbound once I had finished talking. I could see all of them dreaming of their own White Christmases, adding their own personal touches. Renesmee smiled up at, blissfully unaware of the trance I had put our family under.

Suddenly the spell broke with Emmet's booming laughter.

"I see you can still spin crap into something worth listening to." Renesmee gasped as everyone laughed. She held out her hand expectantly. Emmet looked at me, confused, then back at Renesmee. "What's your hand out for Little Reni?"

"She's expecting a dollar." He looked at me, even more confused. "Every time someone swears they have to put money into the Swear Jar, which ends up going to some charity or other before Christmas. I don't want my daughter to grow up to have the mouth of a sailor." Everyone laughed even harder as they watched Emmet hand the money over into my daughter's waiting hands.

* * * * * *

"So when do you plan on going back to New York?" Rosalie asked, sipping her Chandy. She had decided since she was the only non-mummy of the three of us, it was her duty to drink alcohol. She had chosen her favourite; half beer, half lemonade, although she always asked for them to add a few sprigs of mint. I never understood why, and I never wanted to know.

"Shortly after Christmas, maybe after the New Year." I shrugged, "I'm not sure; everything's kin of slow at the moment so there's no rush back." I took a sip of my lemonade.

"What, you going to runaway again?" asked Alice while she slurped on her ice-chocolate. She always ordered an ice-chocolate. There was just something about them according to her.

I choked on the lemonade in my mouth.

"What makes you think I 'ran away' the first time?"

"Well, there was the small fact that the last time I saw you was at my wedding and you didn't say goodbye to your best friend. You also never told anyone you were leaving; only a measly note that I had to find at you house when I got back from my honeymoon. You left Edward hanging dry, and nine months later my find out from gossip columns that you're dating someone new and have had a baby with him! You hadn't even technically broken up with Edward, Bella! So excuse me for thinking that you ran away, but you did nothing that warrants defense for yourself."

I frowned at the wreath hanging on the door to the café we sat at. I deserved everything Alice had just thrown at me, and I knew it. Was there a way of telling her and Rosalie the truth without Edward finding out?

"Mike Newton is not the father, Alice, as you well know," I looked at her, feeling the sadness settling over my features. "What do you take me for? Some promiscuous little harlot? You know me better than that Alice! Do you really think I would have done that to him?" We both knew the him I was referring to. We stared at each other and I could see her weighing the sincerity of my words.

"Of course we don't believe that Mike is Reni's…May's…what are supposed to call her? Anyway, we believe you. But, you have to admit; the evidence is pretty good." Rosalie looked at me and I understood the look she was giving me. She wanted to prove myself not in the wrong. I dug in my bag and pulled out a photo Mike had given me long ago. It was crushed and crumpled but the four people in the picture were still recognizable.

"My daughter looks nothing like Victoria, nor would I want her to be any relation to Mike or his mother." Alice and Rosalie looked at the photo I had tossed on the table. In the photo Renesmee bore no resemblance to Mike or his mother, as the media had claimed. And thank the Lord for that!

"So who does she look like…" Rosalie frowned and I could see the clogs clinking together in that her mind trying to click everything together.

"Don't hurt your pretty little head, Rosalie," I said in a half-hearted attempt to divert this Nancy Drew moment to another less dangerous topic. She just waved my concerns away with her hand.

"She had your eyes and skin, and I noticed you have the same lips." Alice was muttering under her breath, speaking more to herself than me, also trying to work the baby mystery out. "Her nose is rather straight, not delicate like yours. And she has those unusual bronze curls-"

Just as she said that last sentence, her hazel eyes flew open and Rosalie shrieked an "OH MY GOD!" as the pieces fell into place. I looked at both of them with a pleading look on my face, begging them not to say anything.

"Edward's the father?!"

I nodded reluctantly at their shared conclusion and winced when the childish shrieking started again.

"Please, don't say anything," I begged, "I want to tell him myself."

And when _do _you plan on doing that, I asked myself as they promised. When do you plan on telling the love of your life the truth?

**I loved writing Rosalie saying that Jacob was a 'looker'! Hilarious! What did you think? Can someone tell me a really, really, really good/original blonde jokes? Most of my funny (in my head) jokes fall flat and I have a really good idea for one! Help!**

**What's the reason for Bella's last trip to the hospital? I don't know so you'll have to tell me! I've given you the ingredients so you need to serve me up some soup!**

**Did you like her comments of about dreaming of a White Christmas? I just loved it when I came up with it. And please don't knock my description of a New York White Christmas around to much as I have never been to New York, at Christmas or any other time, nor I have I ever seen snow. Please spare me!**

**Oh, and here's a small plug for the current Twilight podcast I am listening to. Try out 'Twigasm' for size! I love it, but I have to warn you to only listen to it if you have an interest in smut/lemons!**

**A naïve q: what are flames? When someone totally disses a story?**

**SUGGESTION, SUGGESTION! IDEAS, IDEAS! HELP, HELP!**

**Now, press that review button and spread the word!**

_**You know you love me,**_

_**Violet.**_


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